Lone Star Landing
by Alathea2
Summary: Tailgate had received Optimus' transmission calling all Autobots to their new home on Earth.  But he is severely damaged and crashes.  Can he gain the trust of the only human who even seems to care?  Rated T just in case, action related violence. No Slash
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The characters and events in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual Autobots or their human allies is coincidental and completely unintentional. _

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><p><strong>Lone Star Landing<strong>

Prologue

Tailgate honed in on the little blue and green planet with great anticipation. For many eons he had been alone, searching for the Allspark. Far too long to be without any companionship. Oh, he communicated with his friends, those who were left at any rate. But the loneliness was hard on his spark. So much so he had started to doubt what the use was in searching for the AllSpark. Then to receive that transmission from Prime himself.

It was almost too good to be true.

If this planet… Earth it was called by its local inhabitants… was to be their new home it meant his mission was over. The Allspark had been found. Tailgate did not understand why that would mean adopting a new home world rather than returning to Cybertron, but he trusted Prime.

_This is a remarkable star system._ Tailgate mused to himself as he shot past a large gas giant with a sweep of gloriously twinkling rings. There had been another, bluish gas giant further out that had had a smaller circle of rings, but its planetary axis had been almost perpendicular to this one. And his current course would take him near a swirling orange and gold planet that was the largest thing in the system other than the star itself.

A star! Tailgate had explored several systems with stars and was almost ecstatic that his new home would be one. That meant sun rises and sun sets ands a plentiful power source. If the star was strong enough and if this Earth was close enough to it that was.

The scout, the _explorer_ in Tailgate almost ached to take a closer look at all the scientific wonders this system held.

But then, Prime's transmission had said something about living among the people of Earth. That meant intelligence. He could not wait to meet the Mechs of Earth, though why any Mech would call a planet "Earth" was beyond him. Perhaps a Femme and designated the planet.

_Oooh, a planet of Femmes._ That was an inspiring thought.

With one last, lingering look at the gracefully ringed planet, Tailgate increased his speed.

He angled toward the largest of gas giants, eagerly looking forward to whatever sensor readings he could get, even if only in passing. Perhaps after he reported in to Prime he would be allowed to explore.

So caught up in his scans of one of the planet's moons, assuming the system to be safe if Prime had declared it their new home, he did not see the two Seekers that were swiftly closing on him.

Until a powerful blast of energy hit him, sending his cometary form spinning. With a yelp Tailgate transformed, bringing his ion cannon to bear, only to be hit again. Instinctively he fired back, but the pain radiating from his side caused his shot to miss.

"Slaggit!" Tailgate numbed the sensors in that area and took aim again. This time he managed to hit his opponent.

"C'mere you worthless scrap!"

Tailgate whirled around to face a third foe. He knew that voice. "Starscream." He fired, but the Air Commander easily dodged, cackling as he did so.

A shot from one of his initial assailants nearly took off Tailgate's leg. He yelped again and fired back. But the Decepticons were now closing from three directions. And the massive gravity well of the planet was starting to tug on him from the forth. He might be brave and even foolhardy at times, but Tailgate knew when he was outgunned.

He also knew that if the Decepticons were here, he had to make sure Prime knew they were up to something. He had to survive.

It strained his internals to run from a fight, but his duty was to report this development to his commander. And this would probably not be easy. With determination settling into his processors, Tailgate folded himself quickly back into his cometary form and accelerated, aiming slightly out of the plane of the solar system and between the smallest of the Seekers and their commander.

"Nooo, you miscreant 'bot! Get him, don't let the glitch get a way." Tailgate could hear Starscream screech at his followers.

He poured on the acceleration, knowing there was no way he would be able to avoid a pounding. As expected, the weapons fire started almost immediately and only intensified as he closed on the two Seekers, the mighty pull of the planet's gravity working to keep him from leaving. Propulsion system straining against both the laws of physics and damage sustained in the opening salvoes of this skirmish, Tailgate frantically prayed to Primus that his desperate gamble would pay off.

_Frag my curiosity!_ He swore at himself, his protective shell now almost constantly buffeted by the two 'Cons. _Almost there…._

He felt the planet's gravity slowly loose its hold and his speed increased. In a final move of desperation he unlimbered two weapons and fired almost blindly at his foes, not expecting to actually score a shot, only wanting them to be forced to dodge just long enough for him to get enough distance to make his escape.

_Frag me, I think it worked!_ Tailgate exulted as the fire ceased momentarily. It was not much, but it was enough.

He tucked his weapons back into himself and diverted every last available erg of power into his drive systems, exceedingly grateful he had upgraded his propulsion systems before accepting the scouting assignment.

Slowly he managed to pull away from the three 'Cons, though he was less than surprised when one of them stayed on his tail. Of course he would be followed. That all three of them did not join the pursuit could only mean they had more reinforcements on Earth.

_Fraggit!_

He could only hope Prime had enough forces to deal with whatever he would face once he landed on Earth. Speaking of which, he needed to let them know he was in coming. Technically he should have done that the moment he entered the star system. But he had been too distracted by the natural wonders that had greeted him. Slag his curiosity!

With an internal sigh he activated his com. A sensor blowing, shrieking hiss greeted his audios. He shut it off and ran a quick diagnostic. His communication system was completely slagged. Everything but vocal processors. He had no way of telling the others he was coming. No way to communicate over distance at all.

_Fraggit!_

… …

The relatively small world of blue and green loomed disproportionally large before him as Tailgate bore down on it with all the speed he could manage. Knowing he did not have the luxury to settle into orbit and conduct extensive scans before picking his landing site, he did the best he could, pushing his long distance scanners to their limit. Thankfully _those_ systems were relatively undamaged.

He was flabbergasted by how much _water_ there was on the planet. It did not seem conducive to the development of mechanical life.

Then, as he drew closer he strained to get some idea of the indigenous Mechs of Earth only to find… _Organics?_

That could not be.

But every scan confirmed it, and with increasing detail the closer he got.

Earth was an organic world. No wonder it had such an unimaginative name.

But_, organics?_ How were the Autobots supposed to make a _home_ among _organics_?

Feeling his processesors in a fuzz, Tailgate replayed Prime's transmission. _"…We live among its people now… hiding in plain sight… protecting them in secret."_

_Slaggit!_ Tailgate hissed to himself. _How could I have _missed_ that?_

But he trusted Prime. There had to be a reason, and it was doubtless a good one.

Then he was too close to think about that little conundrum any longer so he stored it way to worry about later. Using the signals from his fellow Autobots he managed to deduce which continent they were on. There was no way, with the speed and angle of his approach that he would be able to land anywhere near their exact location, but he could at least make it to the same continent.

With a determined grunt, Tailgate flipped over and fired his propulsion system, slowing himself. He gave it everything he had, determined to slow his speed enough that he would only create a mere crater, not cause an extinction level event.

And it worked.

They were supposed to be living among them in secret, so he figured it did not matter that his approach would look like a meteor to the locals. He had passed through an impressive asteroid belt just outside the orbit of the fourth planet from the star. Surely the indigenous life forms were used to seeing falling space debris.

It was the best he could do, anyway.

His sensors detected a large expanse of almost completely empty and relatively flat land ahead. _Perfect._

His propulsion system continuing to protest against his former velocity and the gravity of the planet, Tailgate managed to adjust his course and speed enough that he plowed into the ground in a completely uninhabited area and only carved a long, relatively shallow scar into the soft dirt rather than a deep crater.

When he came to rest, he quickly reset his impact-addled processer and unfolded himself. He looked around eagerly curious about his new planet. It was decidedly uninteresting. At least on the surface.

Vegetation was scarce, what little he saw was ragged and seemed suited to living with little precipitation. But that was alright with him. Tailgate was not fond of water, especially water that fell on a 'Bot above with no predictable – and therefore avoidable – pattern. And the terrain was almost uniformly rolling. Nothing dramatic or stunning, but not flat. As beautiful as the planet promised to be from space, it was almost disappointing.

Then he looked up.

Instead of stars he was met with a field of the most intense blue it was almost purple. And the planet's sun blazed with yellow-white fire just past its zenith. It bathed the ground with its brilliance. Already, Tailgate could feel his energy levels responding to its powerful radiation.

He laughed and changed his initial impression. _It _is_ beautiful._

Then his sensors picked up something that was decidedly _not_ beautiful. Several something's actually.

Scanning the area desperately he found what appeared to be a road way and headed toward it. Then he picked up transmissions. Transmissions that were decidedly not Cybertronian and yet were clearly produced by sentient life forms. Primitive, but clearly the product of intelligence. Keeping a weary sensor on the 'bots speeding toward him, Tailgate hacked into the signals.

It took almost no time to search this _internet_ the locals… humans he corrected himself… called it. Realizing time might be of the essence, Tailgate settled for only downloading language data, basic native cultural and geographical information. Anything else would have to wait until he dealt with the quartet of Decepticons quickly closing on him.

He readied his weapon as the first three approached, fanning out, blocking his attempts to escape.

"I would have thought you would run, _Tailgate_!" The group's leader snidely spat at him.

"I don't care what you think, Barricade." Tailgate sneered and fired.

His blast caught the white and black Decepticon in the chest and he flew backward into a soft embankment. But that did not stop the others from coming. It was a desperate fight. Tailgate knew that. Unless Primus worked a miracle, there was little hope he could survive.

Then it was joined. He moved like lightning itself, landing blows as quickly and as hard as he could while trying to make himself as difficult a target to hit has possible. It lasted for a little while and in that time he felt the thrill of combat, the sweet rush of knowing he was _alive._ But there was no way it could last forever, especially not with the damage he had already incurred. Once his enemies started to land blows it did not take long for the damage to accumulate and his motions became less fluid.

Still, he numbed sensors as damage was inflicted and continued to fight.

_What an irony,_ a part of his processers thought darkly as he dodged a blow while simultaneously sweeping the legs out from under yet another opponent. _I finally make it to my new home, only to be extinguished less than a breem after landing._

He fell to the ground but used the momentum to roll back to his feet, firing as he did so. But Barricade was on him then and he flew backwards as the Decepticon swung a wicked looking mace into him. He tried to get up, but his motor processers were not responding to commands now and his left arm was completely useless.

Two of the 'Cons were lying in moaning heaps on the ground, sparks flying out of their frames at odd intervals. _Not bad for a scout_. He thought proudly.

He focused back on Barricade, who was approaching him, red optics blazing. With a determined effort, Tailgate managed to lever his weapon upward and took careful aim, making the seconds he had left count.

He fired.

Barricade screamed as the blast lifted him into the air and he did not immediately regain his feet after he landed. _Could I have been that lucky?_ Tailgate wondered, hardly daring to believe it. He could feel forced stasis lock creeping up on him and fought it off.

Tailgate saw Barricade get half way up and then his world went dark.

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><p><em>Note: Welcome to the twisted little world of my own OC and AU. I guess one could say this story takes place somewhere in the abyss between TF1 and ROTF. You have been officially introduced to Tailgate. We will meet the lucky individual who will (obviously) become his human in the next chapter. In case anyone is worried, I don't write tear jerkers, and I certainly don't kill off a main character (one of my own creation especially) in the first chapter. Please review... <em>


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The characters and events in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual Autobots or their human allies is coincidental and completely unintentional._

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><p>Gloria Richardson was still mentally chewing out that <em>arrogant<em> wannabe doctor as she drove home. The Trauma center in which she worked thankfully kept her on an 8-hour schedule rather than the typical twelve. It was the only way she would agree to work there seeing as she had an almost two hour drive home. Unfortunately, it left her with plenty of energy to blow off steam.

Especially when idiotic, know it all _interns_ start ordering her around as if _she_ were still the clueless student, like they were the best thing to hit medicine since the lure-lock syringe. Of course, doctor Gramm had chewed the little brat out, not just for being wrong but also for his unprofessional behavior.

That had helped a little, but still… it _irked!_

An hour into the drive, the gently rolling and dipping landscape worked its usual magic and her angst started to evaporate as she enjoyed the stark beauty of the Central Texas countryside and the arcing blue expanse of the Texas sky. It grounded her.

Her Chevy Silverado had been the only vehicle she had seen for the last half hour. Normally she would not have even considered keeping a job that required such a long commute, but when she was alone like this she felt almost… free.

Besides, she had inherited her grandfather's 260-acre ranch three years ago and could not bring her self to live anywhere else. Thankfully grandpa had gotten rid of the last of the cows and horses several years before he died, so it was just an empty expanse of land when she inherited it. Of course, she had wasted no time moving her own small herd of four horses from the expensive boarding stable to her new home.

Feeling much better now that she had her two cents in on that glitch of a would-be doctor, Gloria relaxed. She turned up the radio and started singing along. Way out here the only signal she could get was a gospel channel.

Then, as she crested one of the countless hills between her work and her home, she saw something: a truck pulled to the side of the road. Or at least what was left of a truck. Gloria slowed as she approached, getting a better look at the wreckage. Yes, it was a truck; one of the newer model F-150s she had been eyeballing for the past few months. Its paint, what wasn't scratched and pealed away, was a nondescript charcoal gray.

But she did not understand how it could have gotten way out here in the middle of nowhere without additional signs of whatever wreck had done this amount of damage. As she drove nearer she could see that the windows were tinted.

"God, no!" She braked sharply, guiding her Silverado to the side of the virtually empty road a short distance away from the wrecked vehicle.

This far away from help, she could not, in good conscious leave the scene of such an accident without at least checking to see if anyone needed help. It could be days before another soul passed this way.

Slamming her vehicle into park she opened the door, pausing to reach under her seat and grab her 9mm Glock and tuck it into her waistline. No harm in being prepared. Just in case. She was out in the middle of nowhere after all.

She grabbed a pair of gloves out of her back seat and headed for the damaged truck, trying to prepare herself for whatever horribly gruesome sight she might find.

She approached cautiously, but nothing was smoking, so she did not think there was much risk of something exploding in her face. Tentatively she knocked on the driver's side window. No response. That was no help. She tried the door handle. It did not budge.

"Just great," she muttered. Either the driver had survived and had abandoned the vehicle or he was still inside… probably dead.

She knocked harder on the window, calling out, "Hey, is anyone in there? Do you need help?"

It could have been her imagination, but she thought she heard a groan.

Now her heart was throbbing in her chest. She had to find out if there was someone alive in that cab. Darn those tinted windows. Who in their right mind would tent a vehicle's windows that dark, even in Texas?

Stepping off the running board she circled to the front of the truck. She hissed. The passenger side was almost crumpled. She paused when she saw the grill. Where the Ford symbol would generally be, the iconic blue oval had been replaced by some custom job. It looked almost like a helmet.

She shook her head and looked up through the front window.

"What the…" It was tinted too. Almost to black. "What imbecile!"

_Great, just great!_ Gloria ran back to her truck and grabbed the crowbar she kept under the back seat. She almost decided the heck with it, any idiot foolish enough to tint his _windshield_ deserved to die in a car crash. But she could not do that. Not in good conscience. Idiot or not, her job was to help others.

Hurrying back to the driver's door, she wedged the tip of the crowbar into place and started to throw her weight into it only to have the whole truck shudder and emit a series of metallic groans and moans. The movement knocked her off the running board and she fell to the ground with an oath.

Picking herself up, Gloria looked at the truck again, just staring at it.

_What was that?_

Cautiously she leaned over to retrieve the tool from where it had fallen and edged toward the door again. Only to leap back when the truck started shaking again. Not knowing what else to do and reacting purely on the instinct of self defense against a sudden threat… Gloria threw the crowbar at the truck. She threw it with everything she had.

It struck with a resounding clang, scratching more paint.

The truck went still.

Then it _spoke._

"Slaggid, Femme! W'was dat fer?"

Gloria jumped back again, falling onto her backside, nearly soiling herself, but managed not to. "Shit!"

The beat up truck huffed but settled further on its axels with what sounded like the grinding of metal.

Now Gloria was no mechanic, but she knew pain when she saw it; that hard won instinct all good nurses seemed to develop with enough experience. Slipping into that place of surreal calm; adrenaline heightened perception and honed reaction time she entered during every code or severe trauma case that rolled into the ER, she slowly stood.

"Are you _alive_?" She asked cautiously.

The vehicle did not respond, but she sensed something akin to wariness from it now. Or was that her own? Well, it _had_ spoken to her once, she would not stop until it did so again. Or she proved to herself she really was imagining things.

"Did I hurt you?" Still no response.

It looked just like a regular, if beat up, truck.

For some reason that irritated Gloria.

Moving as quickly as she could, she snatched up the crowbar. "You better say something or I'm gonna hit you again!" She felt silly now.

But then the voice, slightly deeper than tenor, rumbled from the truck again. "Why ya do dat?" That was followed by another heaving and grinding of gears.

The crowbar clattered to the blacktop. And she swallowed. "Uh… answer my question." There was absolutely now power behind her command.

The gray truck only shuddered again, emitting a low moan. And her mind switched once again from total shock to emergency professional. Racing through the information she already had she sized up the situation. The physical damage, the evidence of pain, the slurred words… Either this truck – which was clearly alive however that could be – was either drunk or it was seriously injured… damaged. Whatever. Maybe both.

Common sense told Gloria to run. Nothing good could come of a sentient, talking truck. It was not natural.

But the healthcare provider in Gloria could not walk away from _any_ living being in such obvious distress. For all she knew, the creature could be dying. She just could not find it in herself to let anything die alone.

Gloria stared at the truck for a moment, afraid to think too deeply about what she was considering, afraid to consider what it said about her sanity. But if this truck were a dog in the same shape, she could stick it in the bed of her truck, take it home and try to make it comfortable. Or take it to the vet and try to get it help. But she did not know anyone qualified to work on a talking truck. Not even her father who had made sure she knew her way around an engine growing up. But she could at least take it home and try to make it more comfortable.

Not that she knew how to make a truck more comfortable.

But the more she thought about it, the more she was uncomfortable just leaving it on the side of the road. Especially when it would shift on its axel almost pathetically and emit that weird keening groan.

In an instant, the decision was made.

Hurrying back to her truck, Gloria hopped in and carefully backed it toward the damaged… creature. Grabbing towing cables from the toolbox she ran back to the gray Ford. She skidded to a stop.

"Ah… look. The side of the road is no place to stay." She paused but the vehicle only moaned again. "So, uh, I'm gonna tow you someplace safer."

Man, did she feel funny talking to a truck.

"Why…?" That deep voice ground out followed by a hiss that was clearly caused by pain.

She could not stop her small jump, though she smiled slightly, laying a hand on the vehicle's hood. " 'Cause I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I got an empty garage you can park in. Just in case it rains."

She saw a shudder work its way through the vehicle and assumed that was an indication that – what ever it was – it was still susceptible to rust.

Gloria swallowed. "I… I'm just going to crawl under you and hook this up to your frame. Please… please, ah, don't run me over."

The vehicle seemed to vent again and when the voice came back it sounded almost defeated. "Dank ya, Femme…" It trailed off into a moan.

Wincing at the truly pathetic sound, loosing her remaining fear, Gloria hurriedly slipped between it and the back end of her truck and then underneath it's front bumper, wriggling her way further underneath. There was more damage there and it made her swallow with sympathy. Then she frowned. Was this thing even close enough to a regular truck that it would be safe to attach the tow cables to the same place she would normally?

Then with a mental shrug Gloria did it any way. "That okay?" She asked by way of after thought.

The vehicle _shivered_ slightly, making her cringe. "Yes."

Good enough for her. She scooted out from underneath it and then quickly attached the cables to her truck. She double-checked to make sure everything was secure. Wiping her hands on her scrub pants she looked back at the damaged Ford that obviously was not a Ford.

"You ah… you ever been towed before?"

The answer was slow in coming. "Not…" that horrible groaning sound, "like dis."

She smiled and pat his hood, hoping to reassure it. "Nothing to it. Keep in neutral, if you can steer at all that'll help, just don't do it any more than necessary to stay behind me. If you are able to slow or break even better, just don't do it until I do." She looked at it… him?... a moment longer. "We good to go?"

What sounded suspiciously like a mechanical chuckle emanated from the gray vehicle even though it ended in an electronic hiss. "After you…"

Gloria could not help herself. Whether it was the let down from how terrified she had been just minutes before or over the absurdity of the whole situation – or both – she laughed, thumping his hood again. "That's the spirit."

It did not occur to her that the damaged vehicle had already gone from an 'it' in her mind to a 'he.' She hurried back to the cab of her truck and shifted it into gear.

_Here we go…_

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><p><em>Well... meet Gloria. I know it was short, but it seemed like a logical place to put a break without it dragging on and becoming to long. Hope this wasn't too corny. Don't worry, poor Tailgate won't be talking like this for long: I couldn't do that to him... or to myself and my readers. Please review.<em>


	3. Chapter 2

_I apologize for the long delay in updating this story. This one isn't as proofread as I usually like to do these things, so there will probably be some grammatical errors and what not. Hopefully it won't be too bad._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The characters and events in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual Autobots or their human allies is coincidental and completely unintentional. _

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><p>Tailgate considered the human female in the truck in front of him. She was the first human to take even a passing interest in him. Granted, she had been concerned there might have been an injured driver in his cab, but she had not run away when she found out what he was not what she thought he was. Of course, he had only seen two other human vehicles on the road since he had discovered it – a mere twelve hours after that last battle.<p>

He vented a sigh, then winced as his battered rear axel was jarred as he hit a rough spot. As an after thought, he devoted his internal repair efforts to his vocorder so that he could at least communicate more clearly. It was undignified to sound like an overcharged, slag-headed, glitch.

It was humiliating enough to be towed by his chassis by an organic, and he was glad none of his fellow Autobots were around to witness this.

Even so, he _was_ grateful.

Tailgate did not know what the human might actually be able to do to help him, but even just a quiet, concealed place to recuperate would place him in the Femme's debt.

They traveled for another handful of miles before she slowed and turned onto a dirt road. Tailgate was prepared to adjust his own course, but the human was obviously experienced with towing another vehicle and handled the turn expertly. Then they were shortly rumbling over yet another gravel road, throwing dust in their wake.

It was an exercise in discomfort as his damaged shocks and struts struggled to absorb the jarring vibrations as they followed the winding drive. It was impressive mile or more before they rounded a low hillock to see a moderately sized human dwelling. It was a two-story building backed close to another structure of matching color but which far more open. Four indigenous creatures – which a quick search of the information he had downloaded from the Internet identified as horses – milled about in a neatly fenced pasture.

Across the drive from the house was an empty building with two wide rolling doors. The interior of that building would almost allow Tailgate to stand upright. Almost.

An even smaller creature – a canine – came bounding off the dwelling's porch.

The human slipped from her vehicle and greeted the clearly excited dog.

"Hi Starbuck, its good to see you too." She laughed, openly radiating pleasure as she cuddled the dog's head. Then she turned back to Tailgate.

The dog followed her, tail wagging, but did not give the Autobot a second glance.

"So… uh… here we are. Home sweet home." She gestured aimlessly around. "There's the garage there." She pointed to the building across from her house. "Or you are welcome to stay outside."

Tailgate considered the human. "Which e'er is less…" His voice disintegrated into an electronic hiss. He continued when he reset his vocalizer. "…of an inconvenience… to you."

That elicited a tiny smile from the woman and an alarmed bark from the dog. But the animal quieted at a hand gesture. "Well, either way. You're the first visitor I've had in months."

She gave a little shake of her head, almost as if she could not believe what she had just said. "Grandpa kept a fully stocked shop, including welding torch."

That surprised him, even as it perked his interest. "You know how ta repair me?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, no. I'm a nurse, not a mechanic. But dad made sure I knew my way around an engine. 'Don't want my little girl being dependent on anyone.' He used to say."

A quick search revealed what a nurse was. A human who helped other humans heal. Perhaps that was the source of her willingness to help him, since compassion was generally considered an asset in that field.

Though her body language was remarkably similar to Cybertronian's there were differences and Tailgate knew that could be misleading when dealing with aliens.

"I am a field medic for my own kind." He stated cautiously, wanting to gauge her response carefully. "Perhaps together we can do something for my more serious injuries."

She just stared at him for a moment as if horrified at the thought. Then she cocked her head to the side. "Isn't that like a surgeon assisting in a surgery on his own body?"

He looked up surgery and thought he understood her horrified expression. He was quick to reassure her. "Not… exactly. But if that thought disgusts…" Another blip of static. "Wit' time most of my damage will heal."

Slowly her discomfort gave way to pure scientific curiosity. "So you… have some regenerative ability then?"

Tailgate suddenly wondered how much he should tell this human. "Yes, though the process takes longer… without repairs."

She was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Then she nodded as if coming to a conclusion. "Makes sense really. One of the standards that characterizes life is the ability for self repair." She walked closer to him. "I'd wager, what ever you are, you're way beyond human tech. That means you must not be human made. You already sound better than you did back on the road."

Tailgate could not hold back a chuckle, even if it ended in an electronic, warbling wince.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' So. What are you?"

Tailgate went still, suddenly remembering Prime's transmission: _"__We__hide__among__its__people,__now__…"_

Slag his pain and damaged warped processors.

The woman crossed her arms at his silence, leaning away from him. "Uh, uh. Lemme guess, if you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

That startled Tailgate. She did not seem scared, but rather suddenly irritated.

When he did not answer immediately she pointed and accusing finger at him. "Look, you. I just towed your sorry tailpipe to my home 'cause you looked like you got spit outta the wrong end of a tornado. The _least_ you can do is tell me just who and what you are."

Tailgate was struck dumb, his vocal processor glitched. He remembered she had already thrown a crowbar at him once.

With an electronic gurgle, he reset his vocorder. _Again._ "You are right. I am a member of…" Electronic mush interrupted him again. "…a race of Autonomous Robotic Organisms from the planet Cybertron."

"An alien robot?" She stared at him, eyes going wide. Then she shook her head slightly. "Yeah. Okay. I can buy that."

But then her eyes grew sharp, looking over his frame. "An alien robot that just _happens_ to look like a Ford F-150?"

Tailgate vented a sigh. "That is a long story."

"Yeah, I'll bet." She glanced down at her dog which had started whining piteously. She sighed and gestured to the garage. "I have some hungry mouths to feed. Feel free to use the garage. I'll be back"

She started to walk away, then smiled in a way that was almost sheepish. "Ooops." She hurried back, ducked under Tailgate's engine block and hastily disconnected the towing cables. Taking them off of her truck, she tossed them almost negligently in the bed. "Sorry 'bout that. It's been a long and… well, _weird_ day."

Tailgate watched the human female walk back towards he house, the dog running circles around her feet.

Curious to learn more about his unexpected host, he continued to monitor her. She went to what appeared to be an organic food preparation area. Moments later she walked back outside, a ceramic dish in one hand and a compressed protein bar in the other. The dish she placed on her porch and then hopped to the ground as the dog ravenously attacked the contents in the dish. Taking a bite out of what was clearly a human ration bar, she hurried to that other, mysterious structure.

The human female walked through the building to the far end and let loose a shrill whistle that startled Tailgate, both with its sudden unexpectedness and also with its volume. The noise engendered an instantaneous reaction in the four horses. They _charged_ the building. All of them.

Tailgate was initially concerned for the woman's safety. Each of those animals outweighed her considerably. But she stood still, waiting for them, so he watched with increasing curiosity as each animal went on their own to individual, smaller containment areas and the woman went behind them, shutting them in. She then went into a separate area only to take a collection of buckets from there back out to the animals. Scans indicated they were filled with a form of grain. She distributed the food to the large (relatively) creatures and then was shortly walking back to Tailgate.

She was wiping her hands together. "So, not going to use the garage?"

"I will…" Tailgate hesitated, not sure how to diplomatically tell the Femme he had been watching her.

She frowned. "Are you not able to get there on your own?"

"I… am not sure." A distressed whine escaped before Tailgate could stop it. "I have not tried."

"Perhaps you should." Her tone hinted at a challenge

With a respectful grunt, Tailgate ignited his engine and rolled toward the garage. His frame creaked and he groaned at the effort. The woman paced him. Easily.

"That _sounds_ painful."

Once he was inside the building, the woman pulled up a rolling stool "So, what first?"

Tailgate considered her carefully. She had lines of exhaustion on her face, if he was interpreting the medical texts he had downloaded correctly. "Do you not require recharge?"

She stared, then blinked. "You mean sleep? Not yet. Its only eight p.m. and I have the weekend off." She shrugged her shoulders. "I figured I'd at least try to help you with the worst stuff tonight. No point in making you wait if we didn't need to. It's a thing I have with patients being in pain."

Tailgate smiled internally. "Thank you." He researched the appropriate terms. She was clearly tired, but still wanted to help him. He suspected she would be insulted if he did not let her do _something_. It might not be the most severe damage, but it was by far the most painful. "If you could help straighten the damage to the plating on my right side?"

She looked at him, almost startled then seemed to shrug mentally. With a nod, she went to a tool locker and rummaged around. She came back out with what looked like a sledgehammer.

"Think this'll do it?"

Tailgate sighed. Of course he could not expect a human to have the highly technical tools an Autobot medic would. But he was a field medic. He had had to make do with worse before. "Yes, it will do."

She smiled slightly as she walked back toward him. "You don't sound so sure."

Tailgate forced a chuckle. "I'm jus' 'membering you an' a certain crowbar…"

She pointed the tool at him with a shake of her head, started to say something, then stopped. "So, where do I start?" She pointed to the panel covering his front wheel. "There?"

"If you would be so kind."

She laughed lightly at that. "Just don't run over me."

"You saw how fast I could move." He huffed as she crawled under him. "You'd be able to get out of the way."

He was rewarded by another laugh. As she set to work, Tailgate realized he actually enjoyed the human femme's laugh. It was spark-lifting. It had been a long time since he had heard another sentient being express mirth. Even longer since he had felt any himself.

It stung, as would be expected, but Tailgate was impressed by her remarkably gentle touch. Especially considering the tool she was using. It took nearly three Earth hours before she stood back at looked at the fruit of her efforts.

"Looks better. I guess."

Now that the crumpled armor was not pressing on more sensitive systems, most of the pain was fading. Tailgate would be forever in the little organic's debt for that alone even if she could not help in any other way. "Feels better. Thank you."

She looked at him oddly, then laughed again. "I've had people thank me for sticking them with a needle. This is the first time I've been thanked for hitting someone with a sledgehammer."

After researching the words, Tailgate could see the humor. He chuckled too.

She lay the hammer down on its head, its handle resting against a workbench. "So, anything else?"

"I think that is sufficient for now." He scanned her again, noticing the clear evidence of increasing exhaustion. He would not let her harm herself for his sake. "The rest can wait until you have taken care of yourself."

She looked at him, arms crossed over her chest. "You aren't just saying that, are you? I mean, I don't want to go inside and go to bed only to find a dead alien robot pretending to be a truck in my garage tomorrow."

"I have survived worse." Tailgate remarked dryly, even though he was equal parts amused and warmed by her rough concern. At least he _assumed_ he was reading her correctly.

To his consternation however, her spine went rigid. "Really…? How?" But before he could respond, her eyes widened. "You're a soldier, aren't you? Some kind of warrior."

Tailgate went stiff. Surprised she had figured it out so fast. "How… why would you assume that?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You mean how did I guess? By your reaction, I would guess I guessed right." She waved a hand. "I was an Army nurse in the opening years of the Iraqi war. Don't know why I didn't see it earlier, except your physiology is so different. But if you are really an alien robot I don't think you would be so severely damaged in a regular old car wreck. Heck. I don't think you would even allow yourself to get in such a car wreck to begin with." Her arms crossed across her chest. "Humph! You were attacked, weren't you?'

Tailgate's vocalizer glithced again and this time it was several seconds before he could reset it. And when he did, he spoke the first thing that was on his processors. It was not the most eloquent of responses.

"Are all humans like this?"

Her eyes narrowed again, her hand reaching for the sledgehammer. "Answer my question. Please."

Tailgate froze, considering her. He doubted she could actually damage him. She was just a tiny organic. But then she was also a Femme. "Um… yes. I am a soldier. A field medic and scout, actually."

"Humph. Scout? For an invasion?" He noticed her fingers tightening around the hammer's handle.

He snorted. "Hardly."

"Uh, uh." She clearly did not believe him.

_Slaggit! _Tailgate did not want to have this conversation with her. He had not even known her longer than several hours. That realization brought him up short. _She_ had not known _him_ that long either _and_ had just discovered he was not only an extremely advanced alien, but a soldier too. Why would she trust him?

With a gust of air heaving through his intakes, Tailgate transformed, careful of damaged systems and wincing as armor plates protested, grinding against each other. The CMO would not be happy when he got his hands on him, and he found himself almost hoping it was not the infamous Ratchet. But at the moment, that was neither here nor there, so he pushed the line of idle processing away and forced himself to focus on the moment.

Tailgate avoided standing, staying hunched over on one knee so as to fit into the building.

The woman's eyes had widened, her mouth having opened and her face paling. She slowly lowered her would be war-hammer to the ground again. Scans of her systems showed evidence of shock and that she was hovering around a flight or fight reaction. To her credit, she did neither.

"You wanted to know what… I am, Femme." Tailgate told her solemnly, thankful that his vocalizer was holding, praying it would last. "I show you my base form so tha' you may know I speak the truth. I am a scout, but not for an invasion of your world. The ones… who attacked me. They're tha ones planning such an invasion. It's intelligence of that plan that I bring to my leaders… an' was why I was attacked."

He paused, that long speech tiring him more than it should have and Tailgate realized it had been well past 48 Earth hours and two battles since he had had any recharge.

The woman did not back away, though her voice was quieter than before. "How… how can I believe you? How can I know that it wasn't the other way around and you're just saying that so I won't try to stop you or something?"

Optic ridge quirking up at the question, Tailgate transformed his right hand into a weapon, though he was careful not to power it up. He made sure she could see it, though he did not point it at her. "If my intention was to do harm to you, I do not think you could stop me. I am an Autobot. Our duty is to _protect_ all sentient life. Including those on this world."

"Protect life?"

"From our enemies, the Decepticons." Tailgate could feel his processors start to become sluggish and forced his vocalizer to work, transforming his cannon back into his hand. "They have no… regard for life. E'en of they're own kind. We believe all… life is precious."

The human female was silent for a long moment, just staring at him. He had no idea how to read her body language. What was she thinking?

He could guess.

Slag his recharge-deprived, spark-driven vocorder. Always putting his pedes in his glossa.

Tailgate sighed. "You are… frightened. I apologize. If it is your wish, I will leave your property…" His vocalizer mushed the last syllable into an electronic gurgle.

He watched her wince at the obvious malfunction. Then, remarkably, she relaxed slightly. "No, I offered you the use of my garage, that offer stands. I… I just need some time to process this.

The two continued to stare at each other for a long moment.

"Thank you." He mumbled softly, hoping he had handled the situation properly. He had not been on Earth long enough to understand human culture. He had addressed the woman as he would a frightened, almost-adult youngling.

Then she was gone, hurrying back to her house with quick steps. Tailgate watched her disappear inside and then, giving into damaged systems, he collapsed into his alt-mode and surrendered to recharge.

… … …

Gloria sat in the small rocking chair in her bedroom and stared out the window for a moment before leaning forward to rest her arms on the windowsill. She did not know why she should trust the… truly alien being currently residing in her garage. He was a robotic warrior for crying out loud. And, well, an _alien._

But there was _something__…_

Maybe it was the way he had patiently dealt with her snippiness.

Maybe it was what he clearly could have done to her and did not.

Maybe it was how badly he was damaged and the remarkable humility with which he had accepted her assistance.

Maybe it was the way he had addressed her with respect, despite how much more advanced and far stronger and larger than she he was.

Maybe it was all of those things.

Whatever the reason, Gloria was feeling strongly inclined to believe this… Robot. No, not robot, _Autobot_. He had called himself an Autobot. But even that did not sit right. He was clearly an individual, he had even referred to himself as 'I' numerous times. Surely he had a name. She'd have to ask him. Find out more about him.

That was definitely a good thing to do before she decided to trust him completely.

Gloria frowned as she considered what he had already said. Something about intelligence that his enemies… Decepticons?... were planning an invasion of Earth. If these Decepticons could cause that much damage to someone as powerful as this Autobot, what could they do to the people of Earth?

She needed to find out more.

But not tonight. Exhaustion tugged at her. Then she realized something else.

When she had asked him if he wanted her to do anything else tonight, he had looked at her with an intensity that had unnerved her at the time… to the point she felt her skin crawl a little. It had been clear he was still in a good deal of discomfort, but he had insisted she take care of herself.

She smiled slightly. Not even all of her _human_ patients cared about her wellbeing that much. Not when they were that bad off.

Standing, Gloria made her way to her own bed. If the Autobot spoke the truth, she would do whatever she could to help him get that intel he had to his leaders.

* * *

><p><em>Hope it was worth the wait. Please review, let me know what you think.<em>


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